The Burning Banquet

For my death, as I had imagined it, there seemed to come an end. The darkness, which had extinguished every part of my longing for life. Would I not be seen as a savior of humankind, if as so, I had saved human kind from the descent into anarchy?. Other thoughts; of death, had surfaced so many times now compared to the short time in which it had occurred. How death must feel each time he took a life, and lingered when the body emptied into nothing but a shell, as hollow as before creation. Death must have laughed, and kept laughing for every time I had fallen into his arms, not weeping, but astonished to find that I was before him yet again. How he must have wept, to find out that he had yet again caught me out of this world, but in another. A world within this world, which was able to repeat itself again and again, where death usually was the only escape; just not for me, my above floating consciousness ever tormented by my own demise. 

The dermal cape of my body seemed unscathed by the previous events. Yet another proof, determining that I was beyond my body, inside an environment projecting the existence beyond what it was before into what it could be now. Instead the existence have denied the thought, thus the subconscious world is created. That I have read. I was lying down. Possible, explainable and logical. A stumble through the dark had in most probably circumstances put my ind a deep subconscious slumber. Soot and ashes filled my nostrils while I was consciously beginning to breathe. Before my mind ever could register the small particles clotting up my nose, the body convulsed in a great spasms forcing a cough over several feigning minutes. In my spasms, the the touch of skin on clothes felt different, lighter and cleaner. No light tickle of dead cells conjoined to the skin seemed to appear in my mind, first now registering the loss thereof. As I realised this a deep itching began all over, not from burning, but from something else, which probably was the loss of hair caused by severe burning.

I flailed my body up from the ground. The hands that touched the ground, did not touch what was floor, but rather that which had been floor at one time. Fingertips sensing the deep layers of soft snow, lighter than a feather itself. Imprints where in the hand as it dug deeper into the layers of ash, almost toppling the whole body in the upheaval from darkness. I saw, to my surprise, a landscape of grey. Dark moulds to all sides, as none of which was before, could be seen now. Was my dream the real end, and this before me death way of rattling me further down his spiral. A dance upon the edge of the grim reapers scythe? I had a queasy feeling of something to go about as wrong as it could get, and by my calculation the moment of truth to this feeling, would be about now.

They were all around in the midst of ashes – The bodies that had haunted the restaurant room in their casualness. Devouring the words to each other like they were common to the ancestors as the tongue was placed, moulded and expressed. All of them were nothing but charred meat, red bodies and spilled wine to their last moments in the heat. A fierce battle had obviously been depicted in real life moments and then again frozen. That was all you could tell by the screams that had stopped when pain had protruded, exclaimed itself in their inner blood systems. They crawled up on their feet, slowly taking in, gobbling up the part of the ashes around them. As an inverse breath of death, they were living by what had been fire, beings of ash and mold, muscles and sinew

This uproar should not get in my way, I now stood as I had not stood before; yet again a true stance, true to youth and creativity. The phoenix rising from the ashes of beyond.

Standing in the desert where the winds rushed over him and the ashes all moved to the earthly bounds, earthly reaches; I could see, or spot that there was no help in this no-man’s-land and the beauty which had ruptured him, had disappeared. There I stood, with nothing to remember but the fate that she had chosen to give him. Walking slowly out through the fences to policeman and woman who where placed to stop casual pedestrians from satisfying their curiosity to the outcome of events belonging to past tense. They could only think it as arson, indeed it could be nothing else when a man such as I walked past these mere townsfolk, like the fire had molded me and the devil had spat the body out again. There was nothing but empty glares in their empty bodies, of those bystanders who were there. In my own mind, the chaos raged. I had corpses rising behind, corpses of living flesh to the front, and every step I would be taking was as a hero of humanity. The cave was still behind me, and should the lions not be behind lock and door? I pushed forward in slow steps, ensuring that none would come running to alter my position in this truth among few. She was still in my thoughts among others, the demon harbinger of fire, soulless from heart to brain. Deep feelings from the afterdark kept pulsing into my mind, like a candle against the wind, but stirring again and again, burning the skin of the hand which sheltered it. It was cold yet warm; Only sin could relieve me, lust of the body between body was one of the dark burning thoughts I fought as true as I could. This pressure she put on me, was stripping me bare. I could feel how, among this, that every mental aspect of my being, slowly was nailed into a cardboard box, and hidden beyond my grasp.

Only one thought I could muster, it was heating my whole body, my complete existence to a point beyond control. But i had control, I felt how the impossible from before was possible. I had done it, I had become one with the fire and wreaked havoc among all these people. Sudden bluring images surged through my mind, fueling the feelings of control; different control - colors in a black and white world, light in the dark - uncontrolled and incomprehensible. Pulsating through my whole body, with the flow of blood, the heart controlling the power itself; burning. 

Lips of my mouth was twitching to form a cynical smile, part of my which was not me, had taken effort to create this. I spread cold blood through every vein, counterbalancing the anarchy, before it spread - a tumor that needed to be removed by freezing. The tumor itself was fire, not clean but something very different. Malignant blaze of heating to spread in the whole body. Cold control and logic was enough to spur the smile away at a blast of a frown.

This would require a considerable amount of paperwork. The references that the books held had never mentioned these words among their pages; they had never proposed the thought of his work working against him.

 The thoughts whirled like a pool as I now more than ever needed to orientation on where to go, for answering questions of bewildering origin; I needed to do so, because such a thing as the mind was indexed and catalogued as a filial system where only the reality of his work was stored. With the lot filled with zombies, an escape unnoticed would be an impossible feat even for a chameleon such as I, walking among those born in anything but void. Maybe I didn't need to escape? A part of  my body filled the rest of it with the warm embers of safety, making me stand ground to view through the plane of destruction.

The burned corpses and rotting flesh from the scene behind him had begun making the noises of something unmistakeable in the usual human mind; something that had been buried my whole life, now resurfaced in reality. There was still something rather horrifying about the sound - A distorted cracking sound which you only would be able to compare as the peeling of flesh from burnt wood - but there was only ashes left of every burnt building nearby. This was more than any part of a rational mind could handle, and enough to make some part of me lick my lips in godly calm to nauseating images, which would burn into any man’s mind. Oddities of human form were all around on the scene of the fire – a freaky horror show on television. The corpses had risen in pairs: soulless bodies of man to woman stood, controlled by the table mistress, to the king of reaping. While she stood there, far behind, on the top of the rubble, as one of the corpses, she had her black cloak and deformed body to stand out. From head to toe they were blackened yet in a reddish hue from the burning storm of a passionate lover, turning on the fire of every heart, blasting the restaurant into a hell of lust to abide by her command; she was to be more than a part of this story. Blood sprayed from the holed veins that the woman of fire had made. All the corpses, in pairs, were wandering about to be joined, letting the charred meat of the lips mend together, never able to part again. Each of the pairs twirled their fingers together in unity, where some digits broke off: Blood ran out on the ash-filled ground. Still they embraced like nothing had happened. They were the warm-blooded dead with no mimic and only the muscle bound flesh to aid them. Each person’s scorched flesh that bound and stuck to the other, would, like a sticker, fasten on the opposite sex, when any movement came from one in the pair.

Starstruck, paralyzed and even limp, I stood watching these horrid visions expecting a feint arriving any moment. Nothing as such, not even a blurred image before my eyes. Blurred was the images that formed in my mind, from a distant land, a vast world so horrid nothing but the creatures who had been born from it, was able to live in it. She formed from this dimension, or had always been just a small part of this world, among human; more than human. She stood among the corpses as the crouching tiger having caught its prey, gorging it open while grinding her body to the gluey skin in celebration of the feast, of life. After finishing her one meal of man she moved on to the next: Motions of feline grace themed her passage, purring, having been satisfied enough by devouring of a mere man.

Even I could not bear what moemnts of terror to be witnessed; in desperation and knowlegde of the impending doom yet to come I fell to my knees seeing this... this... insanity that had just happened. There was another she devil here, one that I had almost forgot from before, but had to remember as she now stood at my heels, with all the unloving corpses still rising, still touching, peeling off skin with each touch. She was behind me again, the temptress, the succubus. As god must have taken a part of his ribs to create man in his image, the devil himself must have taken a whole hand to create such a vile thing as her.

I
n laughing words she started “Silly man”
turning to a powerful yet controlled yell “If you will not have me, you must sin in another way!”

By the wave of her hand, she summoned a man and woman, and ceased the act freezing them in what moments of burned love they had been attempting to recreate.
A heavy yank and pull to my hair, raised the head tilting it back to force a submission from me, Edward Choice. It was not a grip of the usual kind, you could resist and let your power work against. Nay, it was a grip both of physical and mental restraining - a disempowering force of hopelessness welled into me, until I felt numb. With her other hand she ripped the head from the man corpse in order to bring it to her lips. In a matter of sheer moments she had fulfilled the cannibalistic course so horrible, sinful and pure evil, that, if it was possible, I would have closed my eyes, but could not.

‘EAT!’  she yelled, as she pressed this lifeless head into his. 

Tears welled up inside me, and soon came running down my cheeks: with this humiliating request she imposed upon me fulfill i felt hopeless, there seemed no option in this matter. Although I wanted to resist, all my strength had been drained in the subsequent events happening since she entered the restaurant.

“I said EAT! Edward Choice, man of losses” she said

The mind behind my mind talked, or tried talking. It was muffled, gagged or the like, and still held a power vaster than what my order could image. My mouth opened to her command and began piece by piece to devour the head. Even bones joined in like they were the tenderest beef I had ever eaten. It was easy chewing these simplicities. These Inca or Aztec traditions that I had to follow by heart – Or the other persons heart. A victim like I now was. A ritual like this occurring at this time made it all easier, made me remember who I was yet again. These delusional femme fatales should not win yet. The work had to be done. Everything disappeared into my stomach where it stayed, without even wanting to ascend again. After those moments everything stopped. The images of the corpses stayed still. In their awkward sexual positions. Just by watching you should think this was karma sutra illustrated for corpses.

Silence....

The passion of burning

It was a question whether I had been eaten by some netherworld beneath my table, at the restaurant, or just had feinted a given time, to which I was not sure yet. Maybe I still had been sleeping in my office. For all I knew, I had to assume the worst. Total darkness was infront of my, but by the feels of everything, it was a small-shuttle like space, my person had been "moved" to. With a maximum capacity of 1 person, the claustrophobic nightmare resurfaced, burning in the deep sensation of the walls getting closer each second. Light froth tingled on the side of my lips, as the anxiety to get out heightened. I swallowed, and made one with the walls in a few breaths. To regain control, I had to think of numbers, of how unreal it would be that the walls around me could tighten even deeper against me than they already were. I breathed in a controlled manner, counting every exhalation, forcing out the thoughts of fear, mending in the thoughts of control. 

This time I knew that my eyes stood as open as the day itself, much differentiating from the last night, where I had to feel before seeing. 

I shimmer of light turned on to my left side. It was a number. Soon several numbers appeared to be lighting with a single one more distinguished from the others, by the means of a brighter light. They each were shaped in a perfect circle to fit a single digit number inside each of them. Now I knew I was in an unilluminated elevator at least. A tug of gravity and friction, caused a tinge in my body strong enough to tell that the lift had begun a descent into what I still did not know. Heat began emanating from all around me, the tinge of my body expanding to a pull of speed. The elevator was fast descending, fast enough to create such a strong heat, that my body began convulsing with sweat from every pore possible.

Light shifted quickly away from 2, as was the floor he had been on before, but instead of lighting up the first floor, the number 3 shone bright. I qiurked a brow patting every part of my body to ensure that it was not me that had gone to oddworld of oddities to collect the opposite day treats. But no I was not naked, and there wasn't anything inverse about the numbers. Still, the elevator kept moving downwards, that feeling I had for sure, and the numbers kept lighting upwards, that was the perceptive conclusion I had to make.

Behind me a small lamp blinked, only in a fashion a streetlight would be able to when isolated without friends on a dark alley. It came from behind me, and I spurned to let my attention drift from gravity, into something my mind could occupy itself with. 

Oh and it was the piece of art, the castle, that had stood there the last time I was in the elevator, and from there a flicker of light, a flicker of a flare darted out towards me, in the living motion of fire. All the time it seemed as people moved, blocking out the light towards me causing that flicker which I had first noticed when I stood with my back against the painting. 

Every time it grew dark, it was possible to see yet another light inside the castle. One that showed the banquet hall fully lit. It was empty at this time, but I had an idea that I hadn't been just a moment ago. A strange sensation of unease went through me, even worse than being trapped in this small room which should be an elevator, which moved down but up. Soon movement was seen outside the castle. Many lights were held the hands of the people moving out, though it was only in one of their two hands. The second almost always held torches. This fire they brought with them showed their faces, all horrible, all angry, all eyes of these, I could suddenly see. These held nothing but violence, wanted disorder, anarchy and destruction which could fall within everything I was against. All instincts shown to me, as the devil herself had taken a hold of them and led them to their innermost desire as men. 

Suddenly every part of my world, as my eyes showed me, went dark.

In this moment I could watch as the picture, which had caught my eye so many times today, had a real unreal epic played out, with each of the chess pieces placed where they should be. Mother Nature had been waiting for this hell to be unleashed inside the painting of the dark ages. ‘no wonder it was called the dark ages’ I thought, looking closer at the picture, focusing on the closing people. They were all jumping into the moor. A rebellion was beginning as the fires did, turning the first silent scene of a castle, into a roar of confusion and death. 

Suddenly, some thoughts intruded on me, which had no origin in the mind I had been developing for long lasting years. There was laughter. A woman’s laughter, slowly beginning to synchronize with my thoughts, twisting them. 

They compelled my to start on my own into this tiny room, and with such force I began laughing, as the woman laughed in the back of my mind. This laughter was in every way uncontrollable.

I smashed my hand at the painting, and like the hand of god I at last broke through and took one of the torches directly from the poor mob. With the laughter, as a begining of a parasite infestation, this woman who had controlled it, now had taken full control of my body. The torch with live fire she moved to my body, setting kindling a flame to my clothes. 

In the midst of the fire she, who was in me begun; I could feel the heat beginning to stick to my body. What wasn’t organic clothing was sticking, melting into my skin to create a second skin. An acrid smell of burnt flesh, lightly roasted, with the sickening smell of plastic and weave stung to me in the air. Still I laughed, in no control of anything, but the registration of pain. I could not scream, could not move and neither was able to accept the pain I to which I felt. Suddenly in these unnatural hopeless circumstances my skin began taking the fire to it, fueling the fire even more, crisping my skin, eating it up as if no fluid existed inside it, but the liquid fuel to start fires. At this point I regained some control, but only enough to stop the laughter and scream, succumb to the pain my mind had registered already from the fire had been lit. Many minutes went by screaming my lungs out until there the rasp of the throat culled my scream turning it into ash. An out of body experience intervened in the pain, as I drifted to a third person point of view above my own body crumbling beneath me. There was nothing left of the human envelope but the skin charred away, leaving juicy muscles unprotected, ready to detach themselves from bone. First the smooth muscles revealed the skeletal muscles and at last the greatest muscle was revealed. The largest muscle of the human body soon stopped beating, and after this everything went into darkness. 

The lull of deception

To you, dearest audience, I am really terrible sorry, that I have not updated my blog for many a days. But the reason, as it will be given today, is scandalous and frightening. I have neither been at my work, nor near any kind of technology. Quite the contrary indeed. Where I last left you standing, in the darkness, beyond the borders of my office, just to peek inside. What you see might be a horror, Beatrice, or a saint, me at my desk. We all know that I was set up by this, the woman in red, as it is beyond me to kill anyone. Her death, in untimely event in the progress of work distribution, need not to be calculated as a bad thing. Even though her job was easy, and she did it right, I have always been best at tending my cases and files myself. This was a new opportunity to set the world deeper into the palm of my hand. But first I had to think, had to revive myself: locate the energy, I had before, and in that matter use it to the fullest in my workcycle.Fuel, food, waste products well organized the human body need as intake optimizing the power of mind and body.

When you last left me I was in a good place, and had the comfort of my office, and I slept there; slept long and deep, until noon on the next day. I woke up so hungry, so much in need of what I have described above, this meal that makes my body fit and able. It was a deep hunger, one that craved protein, meat and all the roasted finesse ever made to be upon me. It would be expensive, yes, and it would be a feast in itself just to make the order. How was I, man of normal body build, be looked upon, with such a prominent dinner. I craved deeper, longed more, so determined upon the hunger, that no work could be done, much to my regret. I felt like a dinosaur, in the need for a fresh carcass, roaming the grounds around which I had always dominated. Roaring out into the deep blue sky, only being answered by those of my kin. If there were any of those. Only silence answered my roar as I stood on the highest vulcano, upon the eye of the world, the greatest mountain to ever be. It was said, that even the greatest mountain, could dissolve itself by fire, and turn the world in its cycle. A vulcano. My roar would still these fires as long as my work itself was done. It was important that this world did not falter, as those of ancient beings did, and it would not as long as I kept standing. and I would always stand! as long as my line would succeed, and as mentioned earlier, by our new methods I would be able to do so, carefully choosing my heirs personal traits without ever bringing my body to defilement.

Stepping gently, silently and in stealth around the long lost body of Beatrice, in its start of decay, I made my way towards the door of the world. I would enter it, the mountain, and conquer it. I firmly pressed the tip of my index finger against the small button "lobby" and awaited my reception, where only I could be king. It would be no serious offence that of the killing, someone, I would have to give permission to go up there, only to prey. He would find the body, and pray with the headless decaying corpse until I told him to stop. Only then would he be a willing minion, able to clean out my mess for me.

There was no trance, no stopping in thoughts, only the growling, rumbling of a stomach waiting, wanting. Like a mewling child it kept pouring forth thoughts of dismay, crying until I almost stood throbbing with pain. I could not reflect on how vast the emptiness inside me had been, and the moments where my thought touched on the topic, I was reminded, in my mind's eye, about the horrible ending I had come to in my trance state. I had been emptied of everything, and laid bare, just to be filled with a horrible metal, as an empty shell ready to be filled. Was I that? No. I was just as hungry, that my numbers would fit, and soon I and it would be satisfied, and again I would be king of the mountain. I would be able to do the duty no one else was able to. Beyond law, beyond satisfaction.

There was no one in the lobby, even at midday. Not even Tom could be spotted, but I allowed him to have a break from one time to the next. I strolled through, out in the street and headed straight for the Restaurant of the Trinity. It was not a normal stroll, but a pushing controlling walk letting none fill my path, controlling the masses around me, setting up quite enough speed to arrive at the restaurant within moments rather than minutes.

A new waiter greeted me, and I got my usual seat a bit away from where the crowd filled the place. It was a strong thought of omnipotency that cast itself to me, as I sat on this place, looking down on the ignorant crowd where none had any idea of how many strings I pulled, even in this room, at this time. I smiled deviously narrowing my eyelids only to a flicker of sight. How I enjoyed this. This sensation was halted immediately as everyone suddenly sat in silence with mouths of miscontempt, pointed staight at me. The sockets of their eyes almost bulging with hate that they didn't even know of. I was disgusted to see that they had noticed my powerful look on them, and bewildered that they did not bow to their master, but instead were forming a revolution of the mind. I ignored it outwardly, but inward I could not hold the grimace I had, and called for the waiter, to fill this hole of hate I had suddenly gotten. Sudden images in all this blurred my mind, and the walls were red as blood, dripping ever again with the words.. The words of meeting in Soho. It flicked on and off. On and off

Then out of the street a lady entered, like no lady had entered before.A devilish posture showed the true intends of murder and passion, which no man would be able to resist. Her deviant smile glowed before me as her eyes of burning passion and lies quickly glanced on these underlings of her power. My eyes could not turn away from her no matter how her I tried, her aura so powerful, I had to gulp in every impression of her black dress which fitted tight to her divinely created body. She walked with elegant strides swaying her body to the motion of the wind that breath created, till she stood in front of my table. She gave me no momentum to speak. Her voluptuous form gave the black dress upon the red wall a movement resembling the dance of fire. Her delirious tone resonated only through my mind before it exited her delicate lips

“I shall please you by accompanying you at this table.” Her eyes fluttered as she looked in a surveying manner

I was dry of words, as I had never been before. No woman had held it like this one could, and oh how the hate and envy boiled inside me. She had cuffed me into silence, and now I was bound already. She had taken the pleasantry already placing her body on the seat without even asking.  The background became foreground, and no tapestry or letters could be seen, just from the bare glance that she produced. It was an odd situation, where she just sat in silence, with the smile of mischief, waiting for me to do something. An odd moment because no one else were staring my direction anymore; why didn’t anyone else notice? The beauty was utopian. And then.. The next is impossible to accept, but you must know. It really did happen! At least some of it.

Her kiss was deep and longing. A sucking slowly filled into the kiss as her tongue drove around unimaginary sensitive to the touch. It felt as if she was prolonging the moments for every second passing by.  As her hands moved like snakes that would entwine the body of their prey, he could only sit transfixed resisting the moans of desire she let upon me. It was her tongue, her body and her essence. A moving point of sensitivity to show the true meaning behind passion to which there was no ending. At last my will crumbled I let out the moan she had been building up within me, her true intend was here and not in the passion she expressed.

From this I woke, as in a dream, already in the middle of the moan, but only to the staring eyes of the audience - the whole restaurant was looking again, as I was moaning to myself, with her eyes into mine, but she had never moved from her position. Still she sat, her smile having changed little but to a fiendish grin that spread slowly. To taunt me! My rage inside was even deeper, and I would not accept this, this abomination to cause such a ruckus. She would not be seen by them, as I was, but I saw her and that would give me power in this situation. Maybe enough power to win her over, win over time and let my work be fulfilled.

By the time the waiter came back to me with the food she had already managed to disguise her fiendishness into what ladylike looks she had. At that moment the waiter gazed to her and she looked directly back into his eyes, his gaze became a glare where only his eyes were in hers, almost jumping out of his skull, for her to devour delightfully. A part of her craved for attention  by others; there was no doubt. The waiter automatically without question turned and went off, not even sparing a thought towards me! This was my domain and this new novice of a waiter had already given up on me. New thoughts fluttered into my occupying it, as the hunger had, this time the hunger was not toward the food but instead on this deviate beauty which was here in front of me. Still I felt the need and urge to eat, and did so, just with her watching me, never falling and never admitting defeat. 

The shadows around me extended their grasp from the single candlelight on the table.  They had taken hold of every person around, to make every figure like the devil himself: Impish looking people making devilish postures around him fiddling fearful gazes.

I would not be played with. I found a sudden darkness from within myself, thoughts of numbers raised. System within chaos, calculated and logical to understand. I could be isolated in this sphere I had created.  She was just gazing, mentally moving her figures around like pawns on the chess board, all these surrounding the king to call for checkmate. I knew that Choice wasn’t on my side in this mind game, and a last stand of light had to be called to resist this darkness coming upon me and my habits. I halted with the devouring and folded my hand to a judging posture while looking down to consider the situation. She, on the other hand looked up in those moments, taking a full deep analyzing look at me, as the snake she were, her strangling grasp had made me lose his habit at this moment, but only for me to resist her complete takeover. ‘Checkmate’ she pronounced as the candle gave in fulfilling the darkness into the restaurant.

Kicking herself forward from the chair and over the table, no moment could be spared. I had calculated part of this move, as she of course would make the first one. I had to be prepared. I reached down to press myself against the table pushing myself and my chair backwards, my back landing on the floor. A quick roll and I was on my stomach, ready to leap anywhere that could offer a chance for safety. She had launched her own body on the table and stood there ready to jump on me, and win me over. To her surprise, I am sure, I crawled beneath her, under the table, grasping for my own calm. I thought deep and long about my office, my desk and everything it possessed. I gave control, and I could notion a sigh of relief as my professional mind was returning.  As the fears slowly was devoured by what sanity I had left, another unknown instance moved in on me; Or under me. It was something dark and gloomy, like an infinite hole in the floor, bubbling and sizzling, awaiting. Slowly I was sinking into this puddle that the floor had changed into. The seal of calm was broken letting panic arise in through my body again. Mind and body first going into spasm, then numb. Nauseous feelings flooded me from the feet up like a stream going into the vast ocean of fear.

 At the point where it reached the stomach, it started turning and moaning in need of relief to the bowels. When the head was reached all I could feel was craving for air, as I went below, my stomach stopped turning. A mind game, where torture was a way to relieve the pains from inside. In a distopic order I could now could see the table I had crawled under, was falling, falling forever from dreams and back into reality.There was no was of intervening with this, and I  floated upon this ride,  and could spot the freeway of thoughts as a readymade tube of goon and gazes for the spectator to enjoy before reaching the debts of hell. Final destination was called and here the elevator stopped. The table was burning under me as I landed on it. The warmth that heated my body with the fires of hell, created in the womb of human fears was now the thing that led to inevitable peace and torture at the same time. There the demon spawn lady stood before me as the only person that had ever existed in this world of reality where I before was ‘king’

In the moments that felt like forever, where he had looked into the eyes of the she-devil succubus, I had been chained to the table where the fires razed. She slowly crawled up onto the table to show her true nature and guise horns beginning to protrude, emerging more and more from her forehead. At last lying on top of me, I succumbed to her kiss and let my body turn to ashes in the grip. Calling out her name as the true kiss had told. she gave me to the ashes of the world where I should be lost forever – riding on the wind of human lust to where blood reigned.

Return of the void

2 days.... 2 days with feverish dreams all relating to the event this Sunday, as well as Monday. I see her.. In my room.. in the corner. She waits for me. As the objective person, I am, I have been able, even in my feverish vision, to describe her even in depth. It would be a shame to call her modestly created, even blasphemy. Some would say. If I believed in God, it would be a pure image of perfection expressed in "living" form. Even though she is steel itself, her construction is out of the ordinary. Someone must have bent reality (my subconscious self) to construct the perfect hourglass shape. An expressionless face peers beyond my humanity into the deepest depths of who I am, trying to penetrate me, and create a chaotic state within those bounds, I have created to fulfill my own destiny. And she just stands! She stood there both of the days, while I lay my in bed, the sweat tingling in large drops from my forehead against the pillow. Like a statue she was watching me, beyond her facade there seemed at times, a sneer of a smile. Would she lunge a me? I was unable, because of shakes, to move my hands and tap away the sweat. I was unable to call in sick; unable to do anything at all. 

The spoils those underlings must have used the days to. Only can I imagine there is pure chaos when I enter yet another day. 

That day was to be today. Terror and turmoil would roll once I would get my eyes on any underling, not working his hardest. There was a staff meeting yesterday, or should have been, but I have received no such thing as any summary, or even a call from Paul or Brain. Anarchy! Like a crusader walking into the unholy land, crouching low, taking up the sand, and smelling it for the first time, knowing that his heritage, his true lord had been here, I felt at this point. I walked inside my lounge, and could only marvel at the marbles, as only my ancestor had been here before me, placing the foundation of truth, as it wasn't me who had built this great tower. I smelled the clean air, as close to perfection as any air would be, thanks to the plants which were well endorsed inside this house. Air-condition, fake air, had to be mixed with the true air, in exactly the right ratio, causing no harm to the employees; neither to me. 

Hell broke loose as I looked up from the tiles - All these Arabs, and local people were fluttering up from their chairs and couches, throwing every piece of parchment, leaving the water pipes as any other forgotten object of the Nile, uttering a yelping sound, in the resemblance of a wounded dog. My eyes were on them. All of them. These I had given a job. A living for gods sake. They were sitting in the lobby, smoking their cigars, like any big shot, who had cheated society would do. I was not one of those, and neither should they be. They are here to serve all of man, and I to rule, through these servants. 

Silence... Pure bliss... The only sound existing is this newly created void, was the swathing of a mob. "ah Tom" I could mutter to myself, and look around for the always hardworking guy. He heard. He looked at me with an exhausted face. Abruptly, as he recognized me, the face changed into darkness itself. And fear. Like he had seen the devil he spun on his feet and walked the other direction muttering to himself.

I shrugged off his odd behavior, as he always seem to be a bit odd, and walked off towards my lift to the heavens. Tom we have learned about, as he is, in the previous days, there is no getting around how he is thinking; although it has gotten worse these last weeks, than it has ever been before. 

"There is lady waiting for you. She is still there!.. Still here!!" I turned around and just in the spur of the moment, i saw Tom set into a run, to hide further down the corridor, stopping only in the farthest corner, crouching into a position only a weeping child could mirror.

A thing I usually don't do, as I did in this moment, was to gape, open mouth, my tongue almost lolling out. There was no discipline in this no order, I could not see any reasonable or logical explanation, which would begin to tell the truth as of why Tom did such a thing, and told such a tale. No other persons than me and Beatrice, were able to enter the elevator, and I knew she, for one, would never let anyone up in the holy garden of Eden. But still.. That woman. That one who had been keeping her eyes on me in the bed, was a course into discourse, and maybe, just maybe, there was a woman, which Beatrice had allowed inside my sacred chambers. Hatred began boiling inside my heart, but still my contempt outwardly fashion and layers of deceit flowed from me. A mask I was used to wearing.

Without the use of my key, the doors, like a gate into heaven or hell, opened before me. They were acknowledging me presence for all I knew, and I walked in satisfied with the logical response of the lift, to open for their master. They closed... and oddly enough they opened again, what could this be, would they not accept me now that they had already opened? Were they throwing me out. And how could they open when I was the one with the key. They needed a key? All kinds of thoughts flew through me at those moments, but as soon as the doors closed again, the thoughts disappeared. I was empty inside as the place was empty except for me. 

An odd sensation crept upon me, musical even. I have no relationship to music. It is a plague upon the man, causing artistic fluttering where they should have their thoughts streamlined. There is no sense in music, and it causes chaos within order, smiles where there should be cries. The death of a person is nothing if there is music to soothe, to calm. I loathe it.

But here I was, without any incessant notion  to start such a thing, but a tune sprung into my mind, and as all things that collect themselves in your mind, they will have a need to spring out once they're collected. Imagine sending a letter, once you have all the words written down, there is a need to send it immediately. That was how I felt, to my own loathing and despair. The only way I could overcome this, was to concentrate. The machine itself had a tune, but one that was automatic, fulfilled, and always the same. I thronged my mind with thoughts to listen to true music, and at last my humming ceased. As the humming ceased so did the lights of the elevator. I pressed up against the door, reminding myself of the earlier traumatic experience, which had led to the fever and sickness. A point of reality, as I saw the door, was enough for me to feel safe.

It felt like something was enveloping me although this was not warm as a machine in function. It was cold as iron and it wouldn’t start heating to my touch. It had surrounded my creating a deeper claustrophobic feel to which I almost panicked. I sensed there would be no escape, and it kept getting closer and tighter around me. The cold from the touch chilled me down into the marrow of my every bone, summoning forth something deeper, something darker. Fear. I couldn’t breathe in this cold! There was nothing to see in this complete darkness. It was now too close. Close to breaking my bones by the next move, the next second, all I had known as my "life" went out of me. I just closed my eyes in the deep terror of what could happen next. I felt something now as it throbbed closer, something deep and hurting, enough to make you scream for mercy. I could hear it, the cracking of bones, of tendons in muscles being stretched enough to whip to the eternal pressure upon them. Every fragment suffering from the pressure, was worse than the next, the sounds spread to eternity and back. At last it was only a cubicle of death and despair, all my bones compressed to a form  and fill the small square, so much alike to every aisle of stalls my workers were in.

I was compromised, just as my files system and life. Almost laughable that I could think, and could consider that my head would be squared and flat. Maybe it would even be possible to file and sort me to fit my own neatness. What a wonder? There was nothing left to feel only to hear, as my skull cracked open and the liquids from my brain began protruding out running over and filling my eyes down to the mouth. The worst taste I had ever come across, was this vile thing, I now tasted as no man had ever done before me. This was joy and pain mixed in a masochistic combination. It was madness! I began to savour it and taste the happiness of giving up. Letting go and be free from the work I had done. There was no order!? Here I was nothing but a head not feeling anything else, than my brain still thinking. The cold that enveloped me had gone and it felt like I was just sitting against the side of the elevator with the numb body.

What a blackout it was, but waking up was much worse than that of the blackout, the dream trance I had let the noise of the elevator set me into. I found myself in my haven, or at least It should be my haven, but something was amiss, completely wrong even. Usually when you wake up from a blackout, you need to distinguish yourself from your surroundings, as well as know that you are whole. I was whole again, and not a broken bone in my body, although I found that my arm was completely stretched. My mind climbed from the shoulder and along the arm into the hand, which held something by a firm grip, enveloping whatever it could be. It was cold, as the elevator had been before, but softer still. It had once been warm but the reason of his insane laughter had made it cold. 

I tried remembering, I truly did, but nothing came out of it, except that my eyes still was closed, as had they also caught damage in the trance stage and shut down. Was my body really there, or was it only the consciousness playing fools games again, throwing around his head like a ball against a brick wall. connecting thought to what really wasn't there. I had to see, to know, that I was whole now, when I hadn't been before. no matter that it was illogical, when you experience your own death, you want to be sure it is not real, even though you know it isn't I My eyes moved, twinged and fluttered open. Death, death was all around me, but it was not me who had suffered from such an accident on this, my skyline floor. I stared straight into the eyes that any hag, witch or mythical killer of a lady could produce, or at least of what remained of it from life. It was the sad remains of my Secretary, poor Beatrice, to which my anger and hatred had fluttered just for a second, against. There was a tinge of manic laughter left, and I felt hope yet again, it was not me, but her that had lost the head in the elevator. Her body sat disjointed from neck and head. Everything disappeared in my own unreal laughter, as to this situation. As I think now, I could not cope with it, and someone had committed a murder, which of course could not be me. The lady, I had seen no sign of, but there sure was the smell of frame around the air, in this place.

Here she was, this Beatrice, inviting a stranger who was up to no good, inside the sacred place, and now she was paying for her misdeed. Her head in my hands, as the headless knight who had just found his head, her body in a kneeling stance praying to god. The blood trail went inside my office, and like a dog on my knees, sniffing out some secret I had to discover, I followed it. 

As I watched, and let her head watch, together we saw a script none knew, letters revolting and obscure, but still readable. "This is your work" I mumbled to the head of Beatrice. A normal person would be puking at this time, but I merely stood and watched as the letters hung on the tapestry, dripping a few drops from time to time. A new decoration to remind me of accounting, finances and insurance. To remind me that there still was work to do. I read it aloud to be sure what was the message "Meet me in Soho". London was all that streamed through my endless number of thoughts.

This should not stop me from taking the workload of the day. I sat by my chair, throwing Beatrice out into the corridor and began examining the stock market, as I would any other day. The computing abilities of my mind, seemed at a even higher point than they had been any other day before this, and oh how i reveled in it, forgetting everything around me until I was ready to sleep like a child. I took my couch in the office and feel the darkness that I so had longed to succumb to, one which was not filled with dreams or nightmares alike, but just was the void I had hoped for. Nothing could stop mechanics of a true worker!

The aftermath

It was an utter defeat, succumbing to the lies and deceit of some madman's dream, and actually believing it was real. I have heard that monotone movements of light, repeatedly, against the ocular receptor, could cause a state of trance. Not only a state of trance as though, but have a hypnotic effect, with the subjects own thoughts changing the perception of reality. A single drop of water, in daydreaming could have such a fatal effect on the causality in the patterns of thoughts, spiralling towards complete chaos within the subconscious state the subject is not caught within.

Although this took all night to learn, I am again my healthy sure footed self, able to manage my tower through the office, ready to beat another day; hopefully without any disrespect and disregard to the sublime authority, I stand as, among the minor species. I had my phone by hand as a magic weapon to wield; dialed numbers in quick succession, reaching the topmost dungeons. My true essence and being unfolded as I wore my weapon of choice firmly attached behind my ear: the Bluetooth headset. I swung around words in a fierce battle, were I the worlds greatest nation, and those I let my power expurgate upon, are but weak nations , devised for my cleansing from them their filth and uselessness.

For this I was made, and could continue as long as time itself prevailed. In this case time only prevails as long as there are any minions to put forth froth and wrath until they obey and muster to my every command. I get them running, mentally, physically, existentially, slowly turning them into soulless forms, no eyes, and no head. only the body need to obey my every command, to be sure that success and imminent victory will be upon us.

With victory at hand I could give the cheering crowd their knights and crosses, special commendations, and send them on their way home to their wives and children. The hours of battle always takes its toll and some must pay, at least one or two ends up in the ditch, descending one or two floors down to represent a new lesser power, which I control.

Just as I had packed every document of importance and stacked the rest reading for further sorting by Beatrice, my decadent master of cleaning, and was ready to leave,
‘Edward there is someone waiting for you in the lobby’ the almost unused machine of communication roared at me, in a light voice from none other than Beatrice.

I jumped, still affected by the events from yesterday, and depressed of sleep, I just wanted to head home. But this, an uninvited, unscheduled statement coming across to me so unnatural, that was unusual indeed. It could be the woman in red, that friend of Frida probably wanting to argument for her sex, swaying her body, trying to trust her tactful movement into a position of lust, in hope of my male fitness would take over, and listen to her sway. Ah what and what a surprise I will give her, disguising my own disgust at her while pretending to be swayed until the last moment. In that moment I give her a mental knockout sending her straight of the door and back to the street where she belongs. I believe such behavior only should be with hookers, and am sure she would be a good one at that, and not inside my building, or lot!

I went out and gave Beatrice a nod as well as my leftover documents for further storing. "have good evening, I need you to file these before you go, and dust off my office of course." I gave her an apologetic smile as I passed, but in my mind it was sinister, and deadly. The doors to the elevator opened and I stepped in, immediately noticing a redecorating of the interior. Instead of gazing upon me suit and the container in the front mirror, I now stood facing an ancient picture of a lively landscape with a castle in the background. After all the wear and tear on my body and mind I could not have been a pretty sight, after all, I am no machine. Tom must have thought of it, knowing that I did not leave yesterday night. 

After the doors of the elevator shut, a matter of minutes went, before the elevator started moving down. These extra minutes caught me unaware, and as best I could I began spending time noticing what the picture really depicted. It was painted with close resemblance to any antique painting. Especially the castle stood out, I could imagine those masons to be true to their work and never back down until the job was finished. No need to go to the family before that, no need to do anything but a good deed, and perfect workmanship. Perfect all in all. 

I thought it was a flick of my imagination, or well it was, or the reflection of the buttons on the elevator side, but it seemed that there was lights inside the halls of the castle. It drew my eyes even closer, forgotting everything around me, in those moments, I was enthralled by what happened inside the frame. It seemed there was a gathering in a lighted room, the warmth almost oozing out in steady gazes on my clothes, only the kind fire sustained. 

Lobby level was reached and the elevator doors opened behind me, and as I was about to turn, I am sure I heard a whisper, through a cold win, chilling me to the bones, a direct opposite to the warmth of the elevator. In it I heard a voice, which seemed almost like something or someone I had heard before. "remember" it whispered and was gone, still the words lingered in me crawling through me veins, touching every nerve found from the neck and up.

I turned to the echo of the forgotten voice but no one was to be seen except the Tom, his pale face iridescent in the clinical lighting

“Ahem! Tom where is the guest, I was called down to meet?” I asked sternly, but still with a slight smile t my face, now that it was Tom I was adressing. Somewhat a true pose I had given him there. Tom just stood still with a dull glace looking at me like I was some kind of freak! Unacceptable

“Tom snap out of it. This is working hours after all”.

“She went up” Tom snapped back at me mopping harder on the floor, at last turning around and going for the front door in silence.

He must have been delirious. Nobody would go up while I was going down. There was only one elevator to my room. Maybe there hadn't been any woman at all. All this was very odd. Things today had begun to take an odd turn as it had done the other days. I decided this was enough and strolled out to my driver, marching past Tom giving him a slightly calculating look before entering the car.

I headed home and into bed after a quick shower. Refreshing.

The Machine - The Womb

Part of me have no wish of acknowledging these unfortunate turns of events. These small depositions of mental instability within my household, my castle, which by some odd cause, is spreading like a disease, to all that are near the lobby. The cause of mental maladies, are all constructed by man himself. The man who hides behind his own walls, rots within them, and let the lunacy created from greed and desire, locked so deep inside. Of course someone can happenstance bring the key, to unfold the many lighted nightmares which could be hidden within these walls, bit there should be no one able to carry such a key. Oneself as a person should be the only able to break the chains of insanity, free the suppressed, .and conquer their world. In our world, it is unaccepted, leads to external chains instead of the internal ones.

I am touching the subject of mental illness, because, as I start out, more cases have sprung into plain sight during the weekend. Friday and Sunday were a mess, where I had to send home Bill and Paul. They were engaged in a fistfight, disturbingly through more than half an hour before I arrived to see the pure anarchy which the fistfight had produced. Many of the upper floor employees stood and cheered on the different contestants, their hands raised high and the bodies in tune, and motion as one single entity. The information as to what happened, and between who, had surpassed me completely, and as I drew up, drew through and drew in, I saw the horrifying sight. Of notice, is it that nobody moved to let me through, as their superior, but I understood why afterwards. I sent the whole floor home for the weekend, and let them have the day without pay, ensuring them that if this happened again, I could only foresee a firing of at least one floor. That did quiet them down. And thus the shepherd has moved his herd to safe pastures yet again.

Having sent my flock of sheep to their home-pastures, their families and loved ones, the Saturday was whole as a great meal could ever be. Again, the time through the lobby was breathtaking, as Tom did his work for the 5'Th time that I'm sure off. So hard laboriousness in person should be rewarded, I will get him some new cleaning material for the next week. He would love that! Now that Frida is gone, it is his duty to be my eyes and ears down at ground level, and so far he has not disappointed. The void would be no near to what my building was experiencing in the corridors that weekly bustled with life, I could nest here and no one would come to take it from me. But that would not happen.

I felt watched. As eyes on me were sprouting from every opening, within and out of the building. They searched my body, but they drove inside me, more than searching. That locked cage they were searching for.

And here we go back to the start. I have no cage of desire and lust, glutton and greed. I have lived to the fullest, as a better man than any other, and that is why I explained THEIR cage to you. No such thing is needed, as I fulfill every need I have. My needs are just different, I know. Better, beyond that of mere beings who need to reproduce to fulfill their overall fitness. My fitness is eternal, as my memory shall be!

There really was no need to worry, and with those thoughts they disappeared, those eyes. None were watching but me, and I was watching. Watching humans. Watching their lives, as free as they could be in the weekends, strolling through the parks, smiling. "True smiles" I could only mumble. I had my devious smile firmly mounted on my face. They were not eternal these ants, and would soon returning to the queens to do the bidding. Slaves to society, slaves to themselves. They are forever bound in the human cycle - Animal cycle to be more precise - when they really seek to break it they are doing quite the opposite

This is where we get to Sunday. My driver took me to the entrance, as any usual day, where nothing unusual would happen. I got into my Tower and walked down my beautifully carved floor, greeting Tom with my usual "Hey Tom", while I fidgeted with the keys to the elevator, turning my attention to Tom's doings on this day. He had not answered me with anything but an unsatisfied grumble. As an old man about to loose balanced, or a younger one who had had the air knocked out of him, Tom stood leaning on a broom heaving his body up, trying to stand straight. It seemed he failed and slumped down again, his spine ended in unusually curved position as he stood there. I lifted my brow slightly and entered the elevator.

Even though my elevator itself is not designed to stop at any other floors, I have installed counters visualizing every floor I go past, just to enhance the visual feeling of going up. The atmospheric friction caused by going upwards, by the pull down. An exotic feeling I would never miss to have each and every day. As any other day I stood watching as each new floor was reached, turning over the floor in my mind's eye, with a satisfying glee, seeing just what I had been able to build, and to lead.

Suddenly the elevator lurched into a stop between two of the floors, collapsing my whole line of thought in a matter of moments. I stood in silence at the time being, while the light in the elevator seemed to have some slight power failure. It was blinking on and off, at regular time intervals, 2 blinks, one long silence and 2 blinks again.

Even though this shouldn't be any existing floor, the doors opened automatically. I thought that as convenient, as I then wouldn't have the need of help. Outside all was in grey, long halls aligned as a parking lot, all concrete. It was a long passage with individual stalls, each one probably fitting 6 cars. The air was moist and damp, with the feel of a thunderstorm having just passed, droplets passing down in small puddles evenly spread along the pathway to the other end. The lot was all empty. Or almost, at the end stall, directly opposite me, I could spot an outline of something; or someone. At first there had only been the sound of the droplets ringing to the puddles, causing the ripples to spread out as long as the puddles could spread. Now; a dark clanginng sound resonated along the wall. No sound of concrete, but rather the sound of metal scraping against metal, as a dreadful eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee rrrsschh that would start over once it finished. I called out in a mundane tone, no intonation of fright. It was dreadful, unpleasant even, but frightened I was not, for this being which stood so far away, there would be no need of that.

"Hello? Anyone there? Who.. who are you, what is your position in this building?"

I had retreated a couple of steps in the calm silence that entered the fray, moving back into the elevator to push the "up" button. Just one more floor would be enough for my salvation of this irrelevant area of my building. The lights were only in the parking lot outside the elevator now. I noticed. It was as if the elevator had stopped breathing, stopped living.

All lights went out except a single one in the other end. I could only see the humanoid figure, not quite able to see it in the blur. At least it wasn't moving.

The lips moved and like crystals every fragment of them, if they indeed were angled and not polished bare, reflected the light against me. No words came, at least not I could see, but something happened. I must have been under trance because at that point the elevator faded. The room faded and I suddenly stood facing her blankness. It was as though, we here had a woman, which was not a woman, but a metal statue living and breathing. At this point she talked. She told me something which made no sense, not even an enemy within the corporate would call out this nonsense at me. Her voice even more metallic than human, what a prank to call on me!
“You are one of few, of many, of ours to be bound upon the laws of those unprotected by gods. You are no more man than any woman and less human than any. Embrace us. Embrace the truce we are bound by in the existence and become what you have denied for eternity.”

I met her gaze in a cool gaze, which she in every way mirrored as I saw my own image in her whole face. In this moment, I admit, I felt weak, as something burned into me, let my lips touch with the cold unreal. I would never allow such a thing, but in my moment of weakness it happened. And it burned... For a long time... I just stood blinded by the situation

It really felt as something reached deep inside of me, and my eyes, damn those eyes, do not usually deceive, but here, in this situation, I would call hoax on them. I will explain

A spike formed itself from her body, naked as she stood there, nothing but grey colours. It was an indescribable mass that moved from her stomach and into mine, stopping only to grow inside. Growing till all the torso of her body was a drill complete working onto me through me and  into the pavement behind me. Blood began to flow like every river should, when you breach the dam, welling outside my body like life were running out.

 My screams of agony went through the hall while my mind which now was clouded in red images of my own innards creeping up against the walls splattering themselves to fill them.  At last the movement came to be metal upon metal as she now was part of me. I felt empty, like cold hard steel had filled me through sheer froze, freezing my hearts exterior and hollowing my body completely. 

I can only think of this as a dream, because I was still completely in a conscious state of mind. There was nothing left of what would be called body, hence my consciousness floated above the body of what had been me, but no longer was. There was every lining of organ and muscle, a sight of horror, the skin invaginated for me to look upon. Nothing humane was left of my body. I felt hollow even though I was not in my own body. Hollow? Can you imagine? that is not possible. My world is full. But a felt hollow, and devoid of purpose with my current state. I needed something more. Such a ridicule to me!

Like a pang of light - a divine intervention haha! and suddenly I was inside my own body again. I felt dreary, I must admit, felt as though the skinning had been made with perfect precision. It felt as real as anything ever could, this illusion. I was bound, enchanted by such a workmanship created in deceit. Had I, the master, become the slave of thoughts made by me? or her? I could not say, or see clear on this matter, neither give it further thought in this moment. 

The realization and thoughts of this kind, took me back to who I was. where I was. My eyes were closed, but sacrificing a true effort I could slid them open, seeing blurred images. At the bottom of the elevator was where I was at that time, looking up at the still existing grey woman. The woman had laid a touch upon me. The skinning which had been done towards me was real. I could see the skinless hands, the red muscle and tendons showed freely turning the thoughts I had before further into a spiral of pain. Blood as everywhere in a puddle, locked inside the elevator, slowly slipping around me,creating a pagan alter. She was eyeing me, and I, back on her, with the power of a leader, although she seemed unaffected by my nature Then, in a flash she bobbed her head towards mine, clean. I could not escape it with all my skin missing. A rain of acidlike substance poured through her mouth and onty me skinless body, dissolving it slowly. Painfully. I tried, I truly tried to get away from her sunken head, frozen in a puking motion right above my body, but to no avail. The fright and helplessness convulsed my body into nausea and through my gastrointestinal tract I tasted iron. It slowly filled my mouth, driveled out of it and on the floor chocking me to my death. She disappeared in a blink. The feeling of being enveloped came upon me, slithering with a coldness binding itself to my bones. Soon after all feelings would return and every remnant of her was gone. My consciousness was floating just above the sad skeleton which had been me. I felt as though i was something, someone, forged to a greater cause.

The blood and every bit of irregularity were gone as the elevator beeped on the right floor. 

I was of course shaken by this incident and had to rest. Rest and work, and I will not leave my office today. I must come back to reality instead of being caught a dreamworld. Dreamworlds are not part of work and work needs to be upheld, at whatever cost!

Restaurant of the Trinity

Another ailment I must suffer from, as any other man, is hunger. Not desirous satisfaction to be upheld by self-loving as well as coidal experiences. hunger for food, for survival, as long as a body needs its own drive, we must attend to it. Some, caught in their own sexual tensions would already have derived that intercourse is an actual hunger we need to let our bodies fulfill the actual purpose. That, however is not the case and I cannot point that out enough. We have reached many scientific breakthroughs, some of them even deeming the need for women unnecessary. Especially cloning and the idea of having foster parents, as in mice, where you remove the egg from the mother and inject sperm into it. The ability that we can make test tube children, is delightful. I will be able to let my genes go forth and conquer without even having to work for it thus will create an heir without letting myself delve deep into the Id, and burn up with the long diminished passion I so have neglected, some would say, for those of the opposite gender.

Today must have been the first day of the week, where no such events as earlier occurred, slowing the slow progression of my lobby, into a madhouse. It must have been the stagnant air, which Frida carried with her, that caused the slightly mad tendencies in Tom. Today I could greet him, and he even SMILED at me. In a blissful way, as he had seen an angel. That must be my true power which radiates beyond my mere human body, envisioning my closest staff to blissful life. I will have to find a woman who can work as an obedient dog, as Beatrice, in the lobby. It will be hard. My ever watchful eye in the top of the tower, has a burning clear path to Beatrice, assuring none of her woman's guile turns a revolution against me. I have not handed out cake to the poorer, but I imagine the wrong words still would put me in the guillotine, and out of this place as fast as any royal family wording their true opinions to the wrong persons. That decision must come during the weekend, where I might find the true inspiration, or in the elevator. Now is the time to get to the office.

After a long day at work I tend to go out eating, especially after a long calm day, there is none better than going out to Restaurant of the Trinity. It is an interesting name, father, child and holy spirit combined with a godly serving of dishes no other restaurant would be able to bring forth. As I am the god of this place, always lined first in any queue, the waiter addressing me by name, I would say the food is the holy spirit brought forth. My inspiration on numbers, tenfolds, goes binary and closes on itself in a collapse of fractals I cannot even start to imagine at this point. The exterior of this quite expensive restaurant, is not anything you might think it as. There is no holy trinity. The restaurant is placed in a crossing of 3 roads, a giant building inspired by Chinese in design and symmetry. inside it, every table is placed in it's own stall, to create a comfort zone for each and everyone. They have a V.I.P. lounge where several zones are fit as one, originally thought as a zone for socializing in the different circles of businessmen. It happens on occasion I find someone there and have a quick talk with them, hiding myself well under my facade, cracking his little secrets, creating yet another set of strings to puppeteer such a firm around on the great stock market.

The trinity actually refers to the owners, which are a trinity of corporate firms  funding the Master chef to hire any staff he prefers. My firm is among one of them. I pay nothing for the food, since I have direct funding into the place from my monthly revenue, a hospitable amount.
Today, a minestrone soup as first course and a great red steak as the main. I never eat desserts, as it activates our more dark sides, and desires. I do no desire, and therefore am not tempted by such. As I was on my way out, I received a receipt. Signed with a red kiss....

"What is the meaning of this" I blurted out to the waiter.

 He looked at me as he had never seen the note before, a quizzical look for anyone who just delivered such a timebomb into my hands. Already it had infected my with it's touch, and placed itself deep into the sockets of my retina as well as memory. I marched into the kitchens, yelled at the master chef, who stoof stary eyed and apologized to me ensuring that this man, this bastard of a man, would be fired immediately for his intolerance to the founders of this place.

This apology was enough to resettle my mood, for the day, and as I walked out, the waiter approached me, this time at least, not holding a note, but instead looking perplexed at me.

"A woman have been here to leave you this note" a monotone voice for such a man, but I got the idea, that the joke was on me and ignored his now empty hand automated to show me where the note should have been.

I am not a violent man, and the rage which I had had before, had subsided back into the deeper depths of consciousness where it resides. I simply gave the poor man a nod, satisfied with his destiny soon to be. On the streets of the city. I crumpled the note I had received and threw it over my shoulder to the front doorstep, before taking my walk home to rest after such a day as today.